


40 Days... And Counting.

by amyponders



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Ambiguity, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Banter, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Brothers, Derogatory Language, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Gang Violence, Gangs, Groping, Humor, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internal Conflict, Ivar (Vikings) Being an Asshole, Ivar (Vikings) is a Little Shit, Kidnapping, Language, Loss of Virginity, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Mildly Dubious Consent, Modern AU, Modern Era, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Bankruptcy, Moral Dilemmas, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Explicit Sex, Not My Fault, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot Twists, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Stockholm Syndrome, Tags Are Hard, The Author Regrets Everything, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, VIKINGS AU, Vikings, author may have a slight rape fantasy kink?, dark!hvitserk?, hvitserk is a sleazebag, it's hvitserk's fault, knifes, mafia, stabbing threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: Ivar is a young intern at his father's business and he’s eager to prove himself. So when Ragnar orders your kidnapping in order to get back at your father, Ivar steps up and takes charge of your imprisonment. But what happens during the time that you're both forced to spend together? And how will Ivar reconcile his blossoming feelings for you with his duty to his father?
Relationships: Bjorn & Ivar (Vikings), Bjorn (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Bjorn (Vikings)/Reader, Bjorn (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk & Ubbe (Vikings), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk/Ivar (Vikings)/You, Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You
Comments: 36
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

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Day 1 – Morning

You woke up with a gasp. The frigid night air entering your lungs and searing your insides. You tried to move but felt a sudden gripping force on your wrists. You looked down to see what looked like the ragged pieces of a shirt holding your hands in an awkward position on the chair’s arm.

You tried to move again, but your efforts were only met by the inflexibility of well-tied knots. Your blouse was covered in blood but you didn’t know where it had come from. It took you a moment to notice that you had an open cut along your cheek that was streaming drops of the red and hot liquid down your neck, and into the expensive chemise. You opened your mouth to scream, and a muffled shriek came out. 

It was only then that you realized that you were gagged. Horror seeped into your bones. You looked around frantically trying to assess your surroundings but a dull ache was making your neck stiff. The pain clouded your vision, and you felt dazed. You took a deep breath until the pain died to a slow palpitation in the back of your head. 

You turned carefully to the right and saw a chain-link fence more than twice your size stretched up towards the ceiling. A good 20 steps farther away in that direction there was a dusty pool table, and then a closed door with a fair amount of latches. A double tube light, the only source of illumination in the windowless room, shone painfully bright above you, increasing your headache and the dreadful sensation that you were being held against your will. 

You turned your head the other way slowly, trying not to upset your sore head and neck, and you saw a stark bed with two pillows, clean women’s clothes set on the bedspread, a nightstand with a water bottle, and  _ him _ . A tall figure, dressed all in black, with a ski mask on that concealed everything but his eyes. They looked dark and heavy under the poor illumination. He was holding a small gun in his hand. Your heart skipped a beat. And then another until your pulse raced wildly.

“Finally! You woke up! I thought I might have beaten you just a little too hard.” 

There was a long pause before he continued. 

“You’ll have to bear with me, it’s the first time I’ve hit a girl. I wasn’t too happy about it, but hey? What are we gonna do about it? It’s either your pretty neck or mine, sweetheart.” 

He was waving his gun enthusiastically while speaking, then he stopped his speech to chuckle. 

“I’m sorry. Am I boring you? I can be a fast talker.” 

_ Who was he? What was he doing?  _ You couldn’t form any coherent thoughts beyond that. 

He walked away from the bed very slowly, almost clumsily, and approached you. 

You started moving wildly in your chair, shrieking into the piece of cloth in your mouth. You knew your attempts were in vain: there was probably no one else for miles around to hear you, and you couldn’t move an inch inside of the firm ties, but your survival instincts were telling you to kick and scream anyway. 

“Hey, hey. Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay. No need to panic again. I won’t have to beat you anymore if you behave.” 

He grazed your cheek with his thick calloused fingers then clicked his tongue twice. 

“This cut looks bad. We need to wash it before it gets infected.” 

You shrieked again as salty tears wet your face. The urge to spring free was too urgent to ignore. 

“Well, I guess you are not ready to cooperate just yet. Sorry.” He muttered and with that, he lifted his arm and hit you bluntly across the face. 

Immediately after, your ears detected a ringing noise and blackness engulfed your vision, knocking you unconscious.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •••• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



Day 1 – Afternoon

When you awoke, your eyes were stinging. Your head was throbbing and you had trouble breathing. A metallic smell hit you whenever you tried to inhale. You felt as if you had a massive hangover looming over you, and you couldn’t remember much exactly. But you felt terrible, that much you knew. And something was off. 

Your mind was screaming  _ danger  _ but you couldn’t remember what had happened. Maybe you had been drinking too much again? You had told yourself you needed to stop but apparently, your self-control wasn’t as strong as the ties that were binding you-  _ Oh, God.  _ There were ties binding you. 

You opened your sore eyes suddenly to see a white double tube light. And then you remembered. A chair, blood, pain, a man in black, a gun, a hit to the face, then blackness. A scream surged in your dry throat. 

“Don’t start freaking out again, will ya? This will get really boring really soon.” A male voice said. 

You couldn’t pinpoint where it came from exactly, but you could tell it was near. You heard footsteps, and in between aching blinks, you saw him come into your field of vision blocking the light. Was this a rape? A kidnapping? Surely it was a mistake. 

_ Think, Y/N. Think. You need to remember how you got here.  _

“You’re probably dying to know what’s happening… As you know, your father has considerable money and influence and he recently made a pretty bad call. He refused to close a deal with my father. So we’re gonna keep you here, as our  _ guest _ -” 

His voice took on a nicer tone that you were sure he was faking. 

“-until he does right by us. And if you cooperate we’ll make your stay in this hellhole as brief and as pleasant as possible. But if you do not…” 

He paused intimidatingly. 

“…then I guess we’ll both experience just how  _ unpleasant  _ I can be.” 

He walked to the chair that you had been tied to before and came back dragging it along. He put it by the side of the bed and sat down. 

“Now, while you were sleeping I brought you to the bed, cleaned your face, and changed your clothes. I figured there’s no need to be rude just yet.” 

You flinched at the idea of this stranger touching you, and seeing you naked. You also wondered what he meant by "not rude just yet". Had he not beaten you to a pulp hours ago? He sounded like the same guy from earlier. 

He noticed your sudden panic and answered defensively: “Don’t worry, I didn’t see more than I had to. And I won’t tell anyone about that tattoo either…” 

He chuckled and looked at you, but when you flinched, his laughter faded, and he shook his head. 

“Sorry. Guess it’s too soon to start telling jokes!” 

He extended his hand to you and you started losing it again. 

“Hey! Stop! Okay? I just wanna sit you on this bed, and take off your gag. I need to start asking you a few questions. So don’t panic, and for God’s sake don’t scream! No one can hear you anyway, so don’t waste your energy. There’s not a town for miles around. And we're not even on the surface, so…" 

He extended his arm again, grabbing you by your waist, and sitting you slowly. 

You hyperventilated into the wet ragged cloth in your mouth. Everything hurt. Your chest, your thorax, your back, and your head. Especially your head. Your stomach was making the loudest grumbling noises, a clear sign that you hadn’t eaten anything. 

“Okay, I’m gonna take off your gag. Easy now, don’t scream.” 

He moved closer to your face, and you noticed he didn’t have black eyes as you’d thought once before, but rather luminous blue eyes with thick eyelids. His pupils were enlarged, and he was looking at you with caution, barely blinking himself. 

He moved his thick fingers to the back of your head, and quickly untied the knot. You closed your mouth and breathed rapidly; your heart was beating so quickly you could hear the erratic pulsing in your ears. There was silence for a few awkward seconds. 

He began to take his ski mask off. The revelation of his face made you start to recall that night. Your brain was scattered around, trying to piece the puzzle in your head. You remembered you had been at your house, around 11 pm when you heard the doorbell rang.

You had thought it strange for someone to be at the door at that hour, but figured it could be your brother; he was always crashing at your place even though he had a huge house for himself, just like you did. You were the only children of a prominent CEO who was always away taking care of business. 

You’d gone downstairs to open the door and there stood a tall guy, unusually handsome, and polite. He’d smiled and asked apologetically if he could use your phone as his own had died minutes before. You’d gone inside before you heard your front door close, and he jumped on you like a panther. 

You began to scream and grabbed a nearby lamp to hit him over the head. You hadn’t missed, but he hadn’t backed down either. He pinned you against the wall with a solid thud, your head smashing bluntly against it.

He put a hand over your mouth to silence you, and you bit him and kicked him on his stomach. The sudden burst of violence had made him angry, and so he punched your face hard, knocked you unconscious, and brought you to this dingy hole. 

You spoke for the first time, the words flowing out of your mouth almost unconsciously: “You grabbed me. Y-you were there. At my house that night. You asked for my phone, and then you hit me.” 

“Yes. That was me. And you should be glad it was me. If it had been any of my brothers, you’d be dead already.” 

“So what, I should be grateful?” You spat out instantly. 

“Yeah, you should. And you know what else you should do? Lose the attitude, okay, princess? I’m calling the shots now, and need I remind you, you’re all tied up and hurt. Wouldn’t want to make my face the last thing you ever see.” 

You swallowed and asked in a shaky voice: “Why are you doing this to me?” 

“I already told you. Your father is in deep shit with us. And you’re leverage. So why don’t you start cooperating?”


	2. Chapter 2

Day 1 - Afternoon

“My father?! What have you done to him?!”

“Nothing… just yet. We need to find the bastard first. Where is he?” His question was firm. 

“I don’t know!“

“Oh, but you do know. If he disappeared, he wouldn’t leave without telling you where he was headed. Or at least without stopping to say goodbye. So, I ask again, where is he?” 

“I have no idea. Please let me go. Please.” Your desperation was clear as day. 

“I’m not gonna let you leave until you tell me. Where… is… your father?” He paused irately between the words. 

“I don’t know. Please don’t hurt me. Please, please, don’t hurt him.” Urgency was rising in your voice. 

“He’s gonna regret ever messing with the wrong people.” 

“Is he missing?” You asked in a trembling voice. 

“At the moment. Looks like he ditched town. Not a smart move if you ask me. But of course, you already knew that. So stop the whole innocent act. We know you know something. Spill it out!” 

Your kidnapper spoke through clenched teeth, raising his gun in an attempt to scare you. It worked. 

“I just told you I don’t know! I don’t… know… okay?!” You recoiled into the bed and flinched at the pain you felt because of your sudden movement. 

“See, I don’t believe you, Y/N. I think you're withholding information trying to protect him, and I think that's admirable. I really do. You're loyal, and you wanna protect your dad. He's your family after all. But we can't let people who’ve insulted us run around as if nothing happened. He needs to learn his lesson. Otherwise, we’re not exactly living up to our family name. So I'm gonna ask you once again, princess. Where the  _ fuck _ is your father hiding?!”

“I don’t know! Leave me alone, please!” 

“Don’t lie to me! Answer!” He cocked his gun and pointed it at your knees. 

You couldn't handle the pressure. Your emotions were bubbling too close to the surface so you started crying. Your sobs intensified with every word he screamed. 

“I swear, if you don't start speaking now, I'll blow your kneecaps off!” 

You couldn't speak a word. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. That you didn't know anything about your father's whereabouts, or his dealings with this so-called businessman. The emotional distress that made you cry only made the bruises hurt worse, which in turn made you cry more. 

You felt betrayed by your father. Confused by this whole situation. Abused and pressured by this man. And forgotten by your own family that hadn't come to your rescue yet. You’d be willing to bet they hadn't even noticed your disappearance. Maybe by the time they did, it would be too late. He stopped yelling when he saw your crying fit and he pursed his lips. 

“Stop crying, princess. I need answers. And I need them now. I don’t wanna hurt you, okay? So don't give me a reason.” 

“I swear… I'm telling you the truth. I didn't know about… any of this. Guess he's been lying to me… and I dunno where he is. So if you wanna kill me go ahead! Because I cannot tell you something I don't know!” You uttered in between sharp staccato breaths. 

“You better be telling the truth. Or else you will regret it.” He turned around to walk up to the door in slow steps, then he disappeared behind it with a loud thud.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •••• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••



Day 1 – Night

The stranger came back several hours later. 

You were huddling in a corner of the bed quietly, trying to figure out a way to escape. In his absence you had visually scoured the place over and over again, looking for a weak spot, a hidden window, or a hatch that will provide a way out other than the solid steel door. You were weapon-less, weak, hurt, and underfed. Not to mention still tied. Your head felt like a time bomb ticking, and the dreadful white light on the ceiling only made it worse. 

Your captor came directly to the bed and faced you. 

“Alright. If you don't know where he is, I'm sure you know where he would take off to then. Use your imagination. Where would you go if you were your father and you had to get away quickly?” 

“Is this about money? We can pay you anything you want! You only need to say how much.” 

“Oh, this is about more than just money. It's  _ personal _ . So, answer me.” 

“Why are you doing this? You enjoy making people suffer?” Your voice was raspy and low.

“Sometimes. Not you though. I don't like to hit women.” 

“Yet you did.” 

“Yeah, because I had to. You're one feisty chick.” 

“You say that like you expected me to tie myself and come over willingly.” 

“Don't change the subject. It's true I hit you hard, and it probably wasn’t the nicest thing on my part. Like I said, I don’t like hitting women.” 

“You keep saying that in a condescending tone. I don’t need your pity! Why don’t you take these ties off, and face me like a man, you coward!” 

He chuckled, amused at your threat. “Well, for one, I think you’re delusional. You’ll never beat me.” 

“Why? Because I’m a woman? You misogynistic piece of shit!” 

“Hey, hey, language.” He chuckled again. “And no. Because you’re hurt, and weak. You need to eat before you start taking on thugs. Even crippled ones.”

_ Crippled? What did he mean by that?  _

You seemed to vaguely remember that the way he walked was a little odd but you had been too out of it to process what that meant. In any case, he was right. Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food. You felt lightheaded and on edge. Suddenly you were seeing things sideways and you collapsed on the mattress, black spots coming into your vision, and your eyelids fluttering unevenly. 

“Woah, are you okay? Shit! Bjørn!? Get in here, you idiot!” 

The door opened with a thump and a tall buff guy with a fair amount of tattoos stepped through it. He had roughened features and a scar that cut through his left eyebrow and gave him a frightening look. A big semi-automatic gun was strapped to his waist. 

“What is it? Is she dying? Father is gonna kill your sorry ass. He wants her alive!” His big voice boomed off the walls of the room. 

“No, no. I don’t think she’s dead. She just needs food.”

The first guy grabbed your face, and slapped you gently, trying to make your eyes come into focus. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, Y/N.” 

“Well, did you feed the bitch?” 

“What? No! I didn’t exactly have time in between beating and interrogating her. Go get her something. Quick! Before she passes out.” 

“Don’t boss me around you little prick.” The tall guy, Bjørn, said. 

“I don’t have time for this, brother. Go get her some food, or else you’ll have to answer to father, and explain to him why you let Y/N die.” 

“Well, this is your fault, not mine!” 

“Do you wanna wait around ‘til she’s dead to see who’s father gonna believe?” 

Bjørn left the room in protest. A few minutes later he came back with a bowl of food. Some sort of stew was in it. 

“What is this thing?” Your kidnapper asked while opening the lid and he started feeding you after sitting you up. 

“My lunch. So you owe me.” Bjørn exited the room clearly pissed off. 

When you recovered, he set the bowl on the nightstand and made you stand. There was a door hidden behind a zinc plank in your room that led to a small but surprisingly decent bathroom. You washed your face with cold water and when you got back, he tied you up again.

“Better?” 

You nodded begrudgingly. 

“Alright. So where did we leave off? Right. You were about to tell me where you think your father is.” 

“Did the bitch eat?” Bjørn entered the room again unceremoniously. 

“Yeah, she did.” 

“Well, get over here then, things have changed.” 

He got up and followed Bjørn. After a long while, he returned holding up a cellphone. 

“Seems like your father’s appeared. He’s on the phone right now. I suggest you start begging as best as you can for him to come back to town.” 

You practically scratched the phone out of his hands. “Dad?! Dad! What is going on? Why are they doing this?” 

“Y/N?! Where are you? Where are they keeping you?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, dad! Please, I don’t know what you’ve done but please don’t leave me here. I need you to come back, please!” 

“They are gonna pay for this, I promise you!” 

The guy snatched the phone away from your hands.

“Alright, you self-serving prick, you better head back to town or prepare to say goodbye to your daughter. You have 24 hours.” 

He hung up the phone and then took out a camera. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused. 

“Sending a little incentive.” 

He gagged you back before snapping a photo of you. 

“We’ll be back, princess. Let’s hope for your sake that your father cooperates. I’d hate to be the one that kills you.” 

He walked up to the switch and turned off the light, a loud thud followed later, and you figured he must have left the room. 

Darkness was the only thing encircling you, so you huddled in fear, a tear escaping your eyes. You weren't particularly fond of the dark. But maybe you could rest a little so you closed your eyes and begged for the nightmare to stop, but only more unpleasant dreams followed as you fell into a restless sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

Day 2 – Late Afternoon

The door opened loudly and the light blinded you momentarily. It took your eyes a couple of blinks to adapt to the brightness. The guy from before entered the room with a fresh change of clothes so you guessed a day must have passed already. 

But if a day had passed, he had given your dad 24 hours to come back… What if your father hadn’t come back? This could be your last moment on earth, you thought with alarm until you saw he was carrying a tray with food in it: a sandwich, an apple, and a small juice, and your stomach growled. 

“What are you doing? Fattening me for the slaughterhouse?” Your voice was cynical. 

“Looks like your father doesn’t care enough about you to come himself. He sent two lousy henchmen to our meeting. Of course, my brothers and I took care of them, gave them a hell of a good time, and left them with just enough life in them to carry back a message. Oh, you should’ve seen Serk’s handiwork on their chests. I gotta give it to my big bro, he’s pretty handy with a knife.” 

He chuckled as if torture was a laughing matter. 

“In any case, your dad needs to come himself. Or face the consequences.” 

“A-are you gonna kill me?” 

“No… If we do that we lose our advantage. Now eat. You need to regain your strength.” 

“What do you care if I’m weak? It will suit you better that way.” 

He sighed sounding pissed. “Look, it’s your life. Eat if you want.”

You took a small bite off the sandwich. You didn’t want to give him a reason to gloat, but you were famished. You could probably eat five of those trays in no time. He grabbed a chair and sat near your bed. 

“So you’re my babysitter?” 

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m responsible for you, and if I’m right and your father doesn’t show up, you’ll be seeing a lot of me for the next couple of weeks. So get used to it.” 

“Weeks?!” The food caught in your throat. “How long are you planning on keeping me here?!” 

“As long as it takes, princess.” 

Your stomach dropped. “Don’t call me princess.” 

“Aren’t you filthy rich? You guys are like loyalty around here. I’ve heard all about you. I bet you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver plate. Never had to work for anything.” He said, absently. 

“As opposed to you? You better not be calling this work…” 

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me. You don’t know half the stuff I’ve been through. This is one side of my family’s business - the illegal side of course - and I have a tough father to impress.” His smirk was irritating.

You hadn’t taken another bite. 

“Eat. I know you’re hungry so cut the bullshit. Or do you want me to feed you like last time?” A big grin stretched his lips.

You glared at him then slowly extended your palm to the plate and picked up the sandwich. You gave it a reluctant bite.  _ Oh, screw it _ . You were really hungry. You dove right into it and a couple of minutes later, there was nothing left on the plate. 

“That’s more like it. I can bring you more if you want.” He laughed and you nodded. 

“Please.” You said, still conflicted about him doing your favors. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” 

He went out, and as he walked away, you finally took a good look at his legs, and you remembered how he’d mentioned the word cripple. It was as if they were slightly bent and he had to drag his feet with more effort than a normal person. He came back a minute later holding another tray. 

“Enjoy your five-course meal.” 

You glared at him again but took the food out of his hands. 

He sat carefully and watched you eat. 

Long after you had finished eating, he spoke to you: “So you never knew he was involved in a shady business?” 

You shook your head in response, still wary of the stranger. 

“Huh…” 

The door opened with a clank.

“You really need to stop stealing my food to feed this cunt!” Bjørn was staring angrily at him. 

“She was hungry, alright? So quit it. Go get some food elsewhere.” 

“I say, why don’t I eat yours?” Bjørn spat out, a dirty look on his face. 

“What? What are you talking about, dude?” The guy’s voice went up and he looked at him sideways, suddenly tensing. 

“Well, father said to keep her alive. But he didn’t say we couldn’t have a little fun in the process. Bet she will scream real nice.” He licked his lips and advanced several steps towards you. 

You recoiled into a corner of the bed. This couldn’t be happening to you. Not this. 

The other guy stood up from his seat defensively. “Her name’s Y/N. And how ‘bout you fuck off, brother?” 

“What? You warmed up to her already?” 

“I said stop it. Alright? Father doesn’t hold with rape and neither do I.” 

They squared their shoulders and stared at each other for a significant moment. In the end, Bjørn spat on the ground and relaxed his stance. 

“You wanna have her instead? Fine. Suit yourself. But stop stealing my food or so help me!” He turned around and headed for the door with a slow swagger. 

Once the door was closed, your captor looked back at you and saw you flinch. He furrowed his brow. “He’s a wild animal.” 

You didn’t respond. 

He walked up to the chair and sat again. 

“…T-thank you.” 

He looked at you sideways like you had just spoken a different language. “Yeah, no problem.” A little sheepish smile danced on the corner of his lips. 

The hours trickled by agonizingly slow as you just sat in silence. When it was time to leave, he stood up from his chair and took you to the bathroom. Then he tied you up again and headed for the light switch to turn it off. 

“Don’t.” You said hurriedly. 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t turn off the light.” You said embarrassed. 

“Why not? Are you afraid of the dark?” He asked grinning. 

When he didn’t get a reply you figured he understood the answer was yes. 

“Okay, I’ll bring you a candle or somethin’.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Day 3 - Morning

The next day arrived slower than you expected. You’d managed to sleep for a few hours but then your body refused to cooperate any further so you lied in bed with the candle he’d brought you, thinking about your messed-up situation. If your father came back, he would probably be beaten, tortured, or killed. 

And if he didn’t, you would die after spending countless nights locked up in this place and they would probably kill him afterward anyway. This didn’t look good. In fact, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. And you weren't thrilled to be dying alone in a dingy bedroom in the middle of nowhere. 

The door unlatched and your kidnapper entered the room with a slow gait. 

“Woah, you look like hell. Did you get any sleep?” He asked while carrying a tray your way. “You could try speaking every once in a while. After all, I’m the one feeding you.” 

You nodded then added while sitting up: “I did, but then I couldn’t sleep anymore, so.” 

“Well, this might cheer you up.” He showed you a platter full of scrambled eggs with french toast, orange juice, peach yogurt, and a water bottle. 

It was a surprisingly good breakfast all things considered. You swallowed and your stomach went crazy but you were reluctant to take the plate after what had happened yesterday. 

“Go ahead. It’s not Bjørn’s.” You took the fork in your hands with a piece of egg and started chewing. 

He sat on the chair again, with a lifestyle magazine in his hands. 

You looked at him inquisitively. 

He caught you staring and said: “What? This?” He showed you the magazine. “It’s just to pass the time. Unless you’re in the mood to have a gripping conversation with me.” 

You kept eating in silence. 

He turned the page and said: “Figured. I wouldn’t talk to me either if I was in your spot.” 

“I hope you never find yourself in it. It’s hell.” You said in a low voice. 

“Well, don’t say that, sweetheart. You’ll break my heart. I’ve tried to make this fun.” He replied faking offense.

“You could let me go.” 

“I told you that ain’t gonna happen. Not until your father shows his face. Now eat.” 

You finished eating and tried to wriggle around in the bed. 

“What? What is it? You need to go to the bathroom?” 

“Well, a shower wouldn’t kill me.” You responded matter-of-factly. 

He had taken you to a small bathroom off a hidden door in the room but only to use the toilet. You hadn’t showered since that night he grabbed you. 

He squinted his blue eyes. “Alright, it’s not like we have anything better to do. But I’m gonna have to come in with you.” 

“What?! No way.” 

“Look, I’m a cripple, not an idiot. You might try to do something.” 

“In a closed bathroom in the middle of nowhere? Didn’t you say we were underground?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“Do I look like I have a shovel up my ass somewhere?” You asked angrily. 

“Well, you do seem very uptight.” You glowered at him about to insult him. 

“I’m not gonna look. I’m not interested. You can get in the shower and undress there. I’ll hand you your clothes when you’re done. But I’m not gonna leave you alone for a second.” 

You scowled and muttered a reluctant: “Fine!” 

He untied you to guide you to the bathroom then cuffed you to the shower stand. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Like I said, I’m not an idiot. That way we both make sure you don’t try anything funky. You can shower with one hand.”

“Or you could trust me.” 

“No way.” He closed the dark grey curtain and you heard him lower the toilet seat to sit.

You waited a few seconds still wary of his intentions. You told yourself you didn’t have much of a choice. Either you took the risk and undressed, or you would smell awful for who knows how long. You couldn’t stand the way your skin looked and felt anymore. You felt dirty, sticky, and sore. 

Surely a bath will do you good, so you took your clothes off with a huge effort and threw them out onto the floor. You turned the shower on slowly, the water sprinkling your skin warmly. You felt such a relief instantly. Your bruises thanked you for the calming water. 

You took the soap and started scrubbing yourself, trying to remove the stain of the dreadful feeling inside of you. The good smell of the soap and the shampoo floated in the air and filled your nose and you were thankful for this small mercy.

Your captor sat outside of the shower, waiting for you to finish. He didn’t say a word the whole time. A very long while later, you turned off the shower and he took it as his cue to hand you the towel. He put it on the edge of the bathtub, looking away. 

You grabbed it and began drying yourself slowly. The curtain moved just a bit, revealing a spot in between the wall and you, and he could suddenly see you. You were standing sideways with a leg up on the edge of the bathtub. He swallowed while taking in the slight jiggle of your breasts as you patted your legs dry. 

Then you turned around and wrapped the towel around your hair. He could see a hint of your ass and a small portion of your back. The sight of you was making his blood rush between his legs so he begrudgingly found the will to look away. You noticed the small gap when you turned so you quickly moved the curtain to cover yourself. He was looking at the floor nonchalantly, trying not to tip you off. 

“Hey, you. Hand me my clothes.” 

He looked up, snapping out of his pretend reverie, and gave them to you, looking to the ground hastily again. 

“Technically, they are not yours. But, whatever.” He mumbled. 

A few minutes later you drew open the curtain and he stood up to set you free from your cuffs. The sudden nearness of his broad frame in front of you made you recoil. He took your hand to guide you out and you flinched, your wrists were sore from all the tying and untying. 

“Can I stay away from the bed for a while? I’ve been lying there for days.” You asked in an expressionless voice. 

He arched his eyebrow. 

“I could tie you by the pool table if that’s enough change of scenery for the princess.” 

“Whatever. I just don’t want to lay there again so soon.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Day 12 - Afternoon

Time seemed to stop inside this damp underground box. The days were drifting away senselessly, and you were getting desperate. 

_ Isn’t my father ever coming back? _

You wondered how long would it take for the guy holding you to go from a slightly above-average kidnapper to your killer. Judging by his displays of anger in the first week, you were guessing not much. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Ways to murder you.” You said under your breath. 

“Come again?” He asked defiantly. 

You looked away and didn’t answer him. 

“You know, I’ve been a very good host to you. Minus the first beating. So stop complaining. You could be doing much worse than me. Should I call my brother Bjørn in here? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to take on the babysitting job.” 

“I don’t need babysitting.” You retorted bluntly but grimaced at the thought of Bjørn getting near you, or sitting in the bathroom while you took a bath as this guy did. 

“Well, then stop acting like a baby. Most men I’ve held were lucky to have clothes on. Hot food, a real bed, daily showers, bathroom breaks, stretching…” 

“Go to hell.” 

“Oh, I’m already in hell, sweetheart. I’m here taking care of you.” He fired back amused. 

You looked at him feeling unexpectedly insulted and he returned your gaze with curious blue eyes. Surely you were not that bad company.

“You know… There’s something that I don’t get about you. How come you two have had everything and you still wind up messing with the wrong people. I mean, for people like me it’s a way to earn respect and make a living, but you…” 

“I didn’t do anything. And I’m not sure my father did, either. For all I know you could be lying.”

“You seriously think I’d take the trouble of holding your capricious ass in here if it wasn’t true?” He rebuffed. “Anyway, how come daddy hasn’t come to the rescue?” 

You didn’t speak. 

“Or a boyfriend.” 

You kept your mouth shut against your baser instincts. 

“You should answer me, princess. Or start rethinking those hot showers.” 

“My father is almost never around. I doubt he even cares about me very much.”

“Oh, I see. Millionaire bastard with a busy schedule.” 

You twisted uncomfortably. Your dad was a touchy subject. 

“Then a boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You spat out instantly. 

“Huh… With that temper, no wonder.” 

You brooded your forehead and looked away. 

After a long pause, you commented: “And I’m guessing you have dozens of women dying to be with you. Or maybe just dying after being with you…” 

He took his feet off the night table and fixed his eyes on your face smugly and you returned the gesture, for the first time actually  _ looking _ at him. You’d said those words about girls dying to be with him, but you hadn’t in fact been paying enough attention to him to see if it was true. At least not since the night he grabbed you. 

He was young and had shoulder-long black hair and expressive eyebrows crowning gorgeous blue eyes which sat atop flawless cheekbones. A proportionate nose capped his face, just above his full mouth that had the best outlined plump lips you had ever seen in a guy. A chiseled jawline angled his face and a set of dimples ironically gave him a sweet, almost angelic expression. You could only describe him as baby-faced handsome. 

His body, however, was a different story altogether. He was broad-shouldered and tall, although not as much as his brother Bjørn, but still enough to make any gym rat envious. His arms were toned and he had big manly hands with thick calloused fingers. Yeah, you were definitely right. Girls must be lining up to be with him. 

“Believe it or not I’m-” 

“A flowers and wine kind of guy?” You scoffed. 

“I was about to say ‘not that lucky.’ I don’t exactly have much time for romance, now do I?” 

“In between holding hostages and intimidating them, I’m guessing not.” 

“Well, I’ve tried dating but usually they don’t wanna stay with me after they find out what I do.”

“Some crazy women…” Your voice was dripping sarcasm. 

“Besides, they’re not always lining up to date a cripple.” His voice almost made you feel sorry for him. Almost.

He stood up from his chair and walked around the place, probably tired of sitting down all day and you took the opportunity to look at him from another angle. He had a wide back that led to long legs underneath his washed-out black jeans. 

You deliberately traced his ass with your eyes, then quickly looked away feeling guilty, but you returned your gaze to his body again after a couple of seconds unable to help yourself. He looked like the sort of guy you would crush on in college from a distance, never actually speaking to him, too scared to be rejected. 

The stacks of money you had at your disposition didn’t make your love life exactly easier. If anything they just complicated it further. And well, the fact that you’d never been intimate with anybody didn’t help either. Love and physicality… That sort of stuff just scared you. Maybe even more than being held at gunpoint… 

He turned around and saw that you were staring. “What? What are you looking at?” He said defensively. 

You looked down at your hands and didn’t raise your eyes again but you couldn’t hide the blood that colored your face. A shadow of surprise crossed his brow. You very much looked like you were embarrassed to be caught checking him out, so he smirked; his ego taking a much-needed pat in the back. 

_ Well, maybe after all he’s right. This could be much much worse, Y/N. _ You thought with reproach. 

What was left of the day passed without further incidents. He brought you dinner, and took the plate from you when you were done to head for the door. 

“Hey, you.” 

“Hmph?” He stopped and looked back at you calmly. “I’ve got a name, you know.” 

“What’s your name?” You asked sheepishly. 

He smirked: “I thought you’d never ask. It’s Ivar.” 

“Ivar…” You repeated after him. “Oh, Ivar. It’s so terrible to meet you.” You smiled roguishly, the first light-hearted moment you’d had in days. 

He threw his head forward and kept on smirking while closing the door. “Yeah, I bet. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”


	6. Chapter 6

Day 16

“Morning, sunshine.” Ivar opened the door; a gun in his right hand, a tray of food in the other. 

You were already sitting down on the floor next to your bed, bored out of your mind before your day had even started. He’d allowed you to sleep untied for a few days now. 

“Brought you some pancakes with lots of syrup.” 

Your face lit up a little. So, it had come to this, then? The highlight of your day was a plate of food. Not much of a difference from your usual life, come to think of it. You adored eating, your fast metabolism the greatest blessing you could think of. 

He sat down on the floor next to you, took the bottle of syrup, and spread it generously on top of the pancakes, then he opened your orange juice box. You grabbed the fork and started eating promptly. 

“Thought you might have a sweet-tooth.” He chuckled. 

“Any signs of my father?” 

“No… We’re working on something but as you can imagine, I can’t tell you.” 

You stopped chewing and looked at him with worried eyes. 

“This is our business, princess. Trust me, you don’t wanna get caught up in this. You just sit tight until this is solved.” 

“But I am already caught up in it. In case you haven’t noticed.” You protested. 

“When we have something worth sharing, we’ll share it.” 

You scowled but decided to let it go for now.

“Can I ask you a favor?” 

“What?” 

“Could you bring me some paper sheets?” 

“Huh? What for?” 

“And a few brushes too. I’m bored out of my mind. There’s absolutely nothing to do! If you guys don’t kill me first, boredom will.” 

“Do you paint?” 

“Yeah. I was taking some classes. In fact, that was my major.” You paused when you saw his look of confusion. “My college major?” You spelled it out for him. 

“Yeah, I know what a major is.” 

“Then what’s up with the face, thug?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Why the hell would you major in painting?!” 

“Not just painting. Art history too. Double major.” 

Ivar looked at you like you had a dancing monkey on your face. “Seriously? That’s worse!” 

You sighed, audibly pissed off. “Forget it. I wouldn’t expect  _ you _ – of all people – to understand.” 

He laughed. 

“Well, you’re right. I sure as hell don’t. There are so many things to do out there and you just wanted to sit indoors looking at splashes of paint on a wall? You rich people, I’ll never get you…” 

“There’s more to art than splash paint, Pollock.” 

“Who the fuck is Pollock?” Ivar grimaced. 

“That’s the sort of stuff you’d know if you had picked up a book or two in your lifetime.” 

“Who would study friggin’ blots on a paper for a living?” He mumbled, then went silent. A couple of seconds later he added: “This major thing, did you pick it yourself, or were they holding you at gunpoint?” 

You looked at Ivar dead serious, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep a straight face. A smile broke your composure and he laughed after you. 

“Well, you could always talk to me to get rid of your blues. I’ve been told I’m a great conversationalist.” He said coolly. 

You arched an eyebrow. “I hope it wasn’t by any of the guys you’ve tortured. Hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure they were lying.” 

Ivar pursed his lips. “Alright, alright. You don’t exactly like me, I get it… I’ll see what I can do about it.” 

Day 18 – Afternoon

Two days before he’d brought you white paper sheets, pens, brushes, and a small watercolor paint container. It had around a dozen colors on it. It wasn’t exactly Michelangelo’s jackpot but it would have to do. You felt like a little kid in first grade again. 

You sat on the bed all day long sketching and coloring. By the time the night came, you had drawn still lifes of everything there was laying around the room. Ivar had kept an eye on you from a distance, but he let you work in peace for the most part. 

Today, however, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor, working on a different angle to the pool table. You had made it your serial imagery since it was by far the most interesting and color-varied thing in the room. 

“Still working on that dusty old thing? Man, that looks boring as hell!” 

Ivar came around and stood behind you. He took a look at your work. 

“Okay, I hate to say this but it actually looks pretty good. You’re talented. Not that I know a damn about painting.” 

You kept moving your brush rhythmically, trying to ignore his breathing down your neck, quite literally. 

“It’s my serial imagery.” 

“Huh? What’s that?”

“A series of works focusing on the same subject. Like the water lilies of Monet, or the ballerinas of Degas. It’s a study of light, shape, or form…” You regurgitated the definition by heart.

He pursed his lips like you had spoken Chinese and said: “Alright, smartass.” 

“If you want me to work on some new things then you should let me out of here. Or get me nude models. Whichever displeases you the least.” You said sardonically. You hadn’t resigned the idea of your freedom, not just yet. 

“You can always draw me.” Ivar said, sitting by your side. 

“What?” You stopped and looked at him. His pretty blue eyes twinkled under the light. “I’m not gonna draw you!” 

“Why not?” 

“I could live without seeing you naked.” You scoffed. 

His nearness made you uneasy and this time you weren’t sure it was because of who he was but rather because of how attractive he was. Ever since that day when you ogled him, it was getting increasingly hard to ignore his good looks. 

“Well, you could, uh… draw me with my clothes on. Can’t you?”

“…Yes.” 

You thought about it; it could work. You already ran out of things to paint and angles to explore. Besides, you had to face it. That pool table was as interesting - well, as interesting as a pool table - compared to a real model. And Ivar had some interesting angles on his face… 

“O-kay. It’s not a… terrible idea.” You said dragging your words. 

“Great. You sure I shouldn't take my clothes off?” His eyes glimmered and you weren't sure if he was joking.

“No! Just sit on the chair and stay as still as you can.”

You sat up with a wince and started making your way to the bed. 

“You okay?” Ivar asked. 

“Umm. You mean apart from being held hostage by a bunch of thugs without any news from my family for over two weeks? Yeah. I’m peachy.” 

He frowned. 

“No, I mean, are you  _ okay _ ? You flinched when you stood up…” 

You turned around ignoring him, but he grabbed your elbow and made you stop forcefully. You grimaced again, pain shooting up your mangled arm and ribs due to the harsh motion.

“And you have a bruise on your cheek that wasn’t there yesterday night when I left you.” Ivar examined your face slowly with his fingers..

You tried to turn away without much success. 

“Hey! Look at me when I talk to you!” 

“It’s nothing. I had a run-in with the night table. I’m a restless sleeper so I fell and hit myself.” 

“You seriously think I’m gonna buy that bullshit excuse? You’re lying through your teeth, Y/N.” 

You didn’t reply. 

“Answer me!” Ivar yelled a little too loudly considering you were inches apart and you recoiled. 

“It was Bjørn, alright! He came in last night and tried to question me-” You stopped because your eyes were suddenly watery. 

“And?” He demanded.

“He got violent.” 

“Did he try to touch you?” Ivar asked crossly. 

You nodded reluctantly. 

“Don’t worry. I can handle myself. I didn’t let him. That’s how I got this.” 

You moved your head to give him a better view of the bruise. 

“That bastard of my brother is gonna hear me.” He said, letting go of your arm and walking back to the door. 

“What do you care? Let it go, okay? It was nothing.” You added loudly, trying to end the subject. 

“You don’t understand…” Ivar paused. “He can’t treat you like that. Father is gonna be furious!” 

“Why? Because Bjørn damaged the goods? It’s nothing you haven’t done before! I don’t need your help, Ivar. And I don’t want it either.” 

Ivar sneered at your comment and you could swear you saw a small hint of hurt crossing his eyes before he stormed off. “…And I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for all that nerdy stuff about art back there... just putting that art history training to good use lmao


	7. Chapter 7

At first, you just stood there paralyzed. Then when you heard the muffled yelling coming from the other side of the door, you made for the wall trying to make out what they were saying. After a while, you gave up. You were about to walk to the bed when you heard a banging noise. 

It was a gunshot. 

You swallowed hard. Fear started to close in your throat. You waited patiently, standing in the same spot for another noise to disturb the silence but you didn’t hear anything. 

Then suddenly, the door opened. 

Ivar came in with blood splashed all around his face and dripping down his temple. It didn’t look like his own. 

“Done.” He walked to the chair and sat. 

An uncomfortable silence spread in the air. 

“What are you waiting for? Get your things and start painting.” 

You walked to the bed carefully and sat down with trembling legs. 

“Did you kill him?” You were scared of hearing the answer. 

He glowered at you. “No. But I taught him a lesson.” 

You clenched your jaw instinctively and took a blank paper on one hand and a brush on the other to try and put the incident behind. He started to wipe off the blood from his face with his arm. 

“No, don’t!”

He looked at you questioningly. 

“Leave it on.” You remarked, unsure of why you had said that. “It looks… interesting.” 

“You have a soft spot for broken things, princess.” Ivar commented with a tortured smile that made his dimples stand out. 

“What do you mean?” 

“First your father, then that old pool table, now me.” 

“I suppose I don't have much to choose from, Ivar.” 

Day 18 - Night

When you were done, you stood up and handed the sheet of paper with his likeness to him. 

“Wow…” He said in astonishment. “It’s really me… Down to the angelic stare.” Ivar said jokingly, looking at his painted version with creased eyebrows. 

In the drawing, Ivar was sitting on the chair with his legs spread open, a careless yet hateful expression on his face, with a gun hanging uninterestedly from his hand, bloodied handcuffs on the other. A big drop of blood gushed down his face giving him a menacing look. The backdrop was black, as were his clothes, except for a too-bright white light that shone above his seat. Your clothes were tattered and lying stained on the floor. 

“Is that how I look to you?” 

You blinked nervously and returned to the bed, refusing to give him an answer. 

“The big bad wolf, huh.” He said distractedly. “Is this for me?” 

You shrugged your shoulder and replied bitingly: “You can keep it. Either that or we could open an underground exposition.” 

“Thanks… I guess. First time somebody’s ever drawn me.” Ivar muttered. “Do you wanna take a shower? If not, I’m really tired so I’m gonna leave.” 

You shook your head and put a pillow on your lap. 

“Okay, then. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

You stared at the door for a few minutes after he left. You couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over. You slowly bent into a fetal position, trying to ignore the anxiety that crushed your chest and sleep overcame you.

Day 19 – Afternoon

Ivar came into the room way later than he usually did, to find you curled up in a ball with tears on your eyes. He dragged a chair close to the bed and sat near you.

“Hey…” 

Since the only thing you could do at the moment was sniffle between sobs, he continued: “I have good news and bad news, princess. The good news is that father moved Bjørn away. He also told me to send you his apologies with the promise that no further harm will come to you…”

Still no answer from you.

“And, uh… The bad news is that my dumb brothers will come to join us. They’re out of the country now but father sent for them, so they’ll be here in two days or so.”

Even though you felt relieved, you didn’t reply. You didn’t have the energy. 

“Hey, I’m sorry Bjørn beat you up again last night. I didn’t think he’d dare after that warning shot. I guess I was wrong… At least- at least tell me he didn’t-” 

You shook your head, and the salty tears dropped into a cut Bjørn had made on your face last night, burning it dully. 

“I stopped him. Again. But he almost succeeded.” You said barely audibly as you remembered how his forceful hands tore your shirt and bra to pieces before groping you. 

Ivar sighed, sounding relieved. “Well, let’s get you to the bathroom, then. A shower might do you good.” He tried to grab your hand. 

You jerked it back and hurled through clenched teeth: “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, you asshole!” 

“Woah. Okay. Have it your way, then.” He stood up but as he headed to the door you shouted at him. 

“Stop!”

He turned around with a hurt expression on his face. 

“Don’t go. Don’t…” You said between small sobs. 

He put a hand on his hip and looked down. “Alright, then. I won’t go.” 

You took a pillow to your face to try and hide. You didn’t want him to see you crying. But on the other hand, you didn’t want to be alone either. 

“Hey, do you like music?”

“…Who doesn’t?” 

“Okay. I’ll be back.”

Ivar entered the room with a guitar. 

You looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you serenading me?” You asked in a now-I’ve-seen-it-all tone. 

“Listen, I’m not the big jerk you think I am. I’m not heartless. You’re feeling down, some music might cheer you up.” 

“Getting out of here and seeing my family would do the trick too.” 

“Not all your wishes can come true.” His voice was resolute. “Just keeping the trapped bird happy.” 

You turned over on the bed facing the ceiling and exhaled laboriously. 

Ivar started strumming on the chords gently and he hummed a couple of songs. This was stupid. It was the most stupid thing you’d ever been a part of. In fact, if you ever got out of this mess, you were sure people wouldn’t believe you. 

_ A kidnapper with a heart. How’s that for unbelievable? _

You sat up with discomfort, huddling your knees close to your body. He looked at you and smiled sweetly. 

“C’mon, you must like this one.” Ivar exclaimed in consternation. 

You shook your head. You weren't a fan particularly but you did recognize the song he was playing. 

Ivar smiled again and his eyelids crinkled. “It’s your turn.” 

“What? No. I can’t play for my life.” 

“I promise I won’t shoot you if I don’t like it.” 

“I’d… rather not. Thanks.” You pressed your lips together self-consciously. 

“Okay, it’s alright. Do you wanna draw for a while? I think I’m in the mood to pose naked.” He wriggled his eyebrows up and down. His efforts to try and cheer you up were transparent. 

“I just wanna take a bath. I’m sore… all over.” 

Ivar laid the guitar on the floor, then he glanced at you with a pitied look all over his features. He stood up and put away his gun on the back of his pants. “Okay, come on.”


	8. Chapter 8

Day 20 – Midday

“Do you think my father is alive?” The tiredness in your voice was evident.

You were resigning yourself to this new life slowly. Ivar’s father, whom you’ve recently discovered was named Ragnar, hadn’t given the order to release you, and your father was still M.I.A. They didn’t give you much information to begin with, but you could gather that from the lack of news. 

“He is… And that’s all I’m giving you.” Ivar said ending the subject. 

You looked away to the wall and slumped sluggishly in your chair. He was sitting on the edge of the bed reading a newspaper. 

“I cannot wait to leave this dump. To leave you.” Your voice was gloomy.

“Am I such bad company?” He asked without lifting his eyes from the newspaper. 

“Yes. And I’m sick of your face.” 

He laid down the newspaper and chuckled lightly. 

“That’s a shame.” 

“Why?” 

“I thought we were making progress here.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh, nothin’.” He said quickly. 

You squinted your eyes. 

“C’mon. There’s gotta be another person you’d hate to be stuck with more than with me.” 

“Are you for real?” You asked, confused. 

“I’m just saying…” He shrugged. “Hey, at least you can use me for your sketches. I gotta be aesthetically pleasing or somethin’.” 

“Are you implying that your good looks make this living hell easier?” 

“Well…” He traced off, a cheeky smile on his round lips.

You opened your mouth furiously. 

He stopped you before you could get a word out. “It’s a joke. Okay?” 

“You’re quite the joker, aren’t you? And very cocky too.” Your tone was spiteful.

“Did you just say ‘my good looks’ though? 

You stared at him, his inquiry hanging in the air. 

“That’s all you got from that?”

“You did. Didn’t you?” He said in a suspicious yet amused tone. “You think I’m attractive.” It was less a question than a statement.

You looked away in an attempt not to blush. 

“If I were you, I’d answer me…” He stroked his gun absently. “…someone could lose a finger.” 

“I wouldn’t admit to that even if you were holding me at gunpoint…  _ Oh, wait. _ ” You said sarcastically. 

“You wouldn’t admit to it, but it’s still true. Am I right?” 

You rolled your eyes very annoyed. 

“How long has it been?” 

“How long since what?” You made a face. 

“How long has it been since you last got laid?” 

“What?!” You opened your mouth in disbelief. “You’re a sick idiot, that’s what you are.” 

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. It’s just a question. We’re not getting any younger in here.” He smiled unapologetically. 

You took the stack of papers and grabbed a nearby brush, trying to avoid his question. It didn’t work. 

He narrowed his eyes, then added in a fitting tone: “I’m starting to get a weird vibe here. You know… I’ve caught you staring at me quite a few times.” 

“For artistic purposes only.” You said defensively. 

“So you admit it!” He laughed openly and said: “I gotta say, this conversation is taking an interesting turn.” 

Your cheeks were flustered and you couldn’t do a thing to keep the color away. 

He stood up from the bed and wandered around, eventually reaching you. “How would you like a box of chocolates?” 

“Excuse me?” You arched your right eyebrow. 

“I’ll bring you a box of chocolates, and I’ll exchange you one sweet for one answer. A truthful answer.” 

“Are you  _ trying to buy  _ me? With a box of chocolates?” 

Involuntarily, a rumble surged in your chest, and before you knew it, you were laughing out loud, like you hadn’t laughed before in weeks. 

Ivar was bribing you. You knew that shouldn’t exactly surprise you. You were being held against your will, after all. Was this his new method of interrogation? Boy, he should have thought about this earlier. It would have been way more useful than those punches. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, searching for your eyes. 

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest thug.” You were incapable of containing yourself. 

“I’m willing to do it. If it will make you talk.” 

“Where’s this sudden interest in me coming from?” 

“No reason. I just get a knack out of talking to people. You should try it, it’s like therapy. You just sit there sulking in a corner, staring at that sheet of paper. It bores me… and I gotta be here with you all day.” 

“Does it bother you? Not getting your way?” You asked derisively. 

“Immensely.” He responded. 

“Welcome to my world.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some sweetness for Valentine's Day <3

Day 20 – Night

Ivar came into the room holding a box. “I come bearing gifts, fair maiden.” He joked. 

You lifted your eyes from the newspaper he had left lying around and made a face. “ _ What _ is your problem?” You asked, more to yourself than anything else. 

He sat down on the floor with you with his gun set aside, carefully out of your reach. 

You looked at it and gulped. It still made you nervous. 

“Okay, I kept my word. Here are your sweets. Now, let’s play. Pick one.” He waved his hands in front of the box. 

“What do you want to know? Is this an interrogation?” 

“Not officially, no. I won’t ask you about your family.” He sounded truthful. 

You looked down at the box he had brought. The treats looked delicious, made out of layers and layers of sugar. Some were sprinkled, some were covered in coconut, and some had special fillings. Others had a buttercream mixture, and others a syrupy cover, like the red one that was closest to you. Well, he sure knew how to make a girl salivate. 

You passed a hand down your face surrendering. __

“Fine. This one.” You tried to grab it. 

He slapped your hand away gently. 

“Nuh-uh. I take the chocolate, and if you answer me then you’ll get it… Man, I knew you were gonna pick that one! Fancy girl just can’t help herself.” 

“Okay, first question. Are you still a virgin?” 

“Excuse me?!” You scoffed. “Why would you ask me something like that? It’s personal.” 

“More than showering next to me? I think we’re way past formalities here… C’mon! I said I wasn’t gonna ask you about your family, for a change.” Ivar’s tone was very persuasive. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

He clicked his tongue twice. “I’m the one who gets to make the questions around here, sweetheart.” 

When you didn’t speak, he explained: “Alright, you seem really uncomfortable around the subject of sex and the flirting…” 

_ Flirting? What flirting? _

He went on: “And you said you didn’t have a boyfriend, and no offense but you just don’t seem very…  _ experienced _ to me.” 

“So I look like a prude? Is that what you’re saying?” 

“Just answer the damn question, Y/N.” He smiled looking down. 

“…Yes.” You said embarrassed. 

His eyes scanned your whole face. 

“Happy?” You asked rhetorically. 

He moved his eyebrows: “Well, would you look at that…? If you wanna change that, I’m your man.” 

He laughed as you snatched the chocolate out of his hands.

“Not a chance.” You spat out.

He watched you eating intently while thinking about his next question. 

“Which one do you want?” 

You pointed at it. 

“What is it with girls and chocolate?” 

“Is that your question?” You scoffed before smiling; the sugar was definitely improving your mood. 

“No. My next question is ‘Why?’” 

“Why what?” 

“Why haven’t you slept with anybody? Religious thing?” 

“Not exactly.” You crinkled your brow. “I’m… a little wary, you could say, of boys that come near me since my father has so much money. Not that I usually get a lot of admirers.” 

“Why not? I mean, you’re pretty… decent-looking.” He corrected himself quickly.

“Well…” You said trying to ignore his remark. “I like to keep to myself. I’m not much of a people person. Besides, the whole dating thing just seems a little awkward for me. I’ve seen my girlfriends get their hearts broken way more times than I can recall.” 

“Still doesn’t explain the sex-less life. You don’t need a relationship for that.” 

“I don’t wanna give myself away to the first idiot who comes along… with a box of chocolates for example.” You added bitingly. 

He smirked openly. 

“Well, you got a point there. Most men only care about what’s between your legs.” He looked at you sideways. He handed you the second sweet and you pointed at the next one bashfully. 

“Do you think I’m attractive?” Ivar asked out of nowhere. 

You licked your lips timidly. “Uh…” 

“You can say I’m not. I won’t be angry…” Ivar looked down to the floor casually but you could sense how much it meant to him.

You could lie. Or you could tell him the truth. He wouldn’t know the difference either way, and you would still get your sugar high. Against your best knowledge, you decided to go with the truth. 

You shook your head. 

“Was that a yes or a no?” Ivar was confused. 

“No, I don’t think you’re ugly.” You said in a low voice. 

“That’s good enough for me. Alright, next one.” 

You pointed to the one with coconut shredding. 

Ivar thought carefully about his next question. 

“Do you think there’s a chance… that… maybe… if we hadn’t met in this messed up situation, I could have had a shot of asking you out on a date?” 

“You can still ask me.” You said matter-of-factly. 

“Would that answer be a ‘yes’, though?” He shot back and you smirked. 

“Maybe…” You looked down at your legs. 

“Maybe? That doesn’t sound so sure to me.” 

“Look, you’re attractive and everything, but I think I would have run in the other direction. You might as well have a sign that says ‘danger’ on your forehead.” 

“I’ll give you that one. But that’s not the reason you would have said no.” He chuckled briefly.

_ Damn, he’s intuitive. _

“I told you, guys make me nervous.” 

You were mortified by your truthful answers. Why were you doing this again?  _ Oh, right, chocolate.  _

“Okay, next.” __

You picked the next sweet while downing the one he’d handed you. __

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” Ivar questioned you in a whisper and grabbed the back of his head with his hand, a strange bashful look in his eyes. 

“For all of this?” You asked in a low voice meeting Ivar’s gaze. 

He nodded sheepishly. “And those punches.” 

You paused and searched your mind for an honest answer. 

“I’m not happy to be here. I don’t love what your family has done to my family…” 

“Right. Stupid question. Forget it. I’m just your captor and you’re not bound to me.” 

“I kinda am.” You smiled trying to make a joke out of your misery and brought your wrists together where the ties had left their marks. 

You didn’t miss how he grimaced.

“You didn’t let me finish…. I might hate this whole situation and the fact that you want to keep me away from my family. But, I don’t hate you, Ivar. If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re caught up in the wrong business and in a way, you’re just as trapped as I am…” You explained gloomily. 

These questions were getting more and more personal by the minute. You could almost see a crack on his defenses and you decided to exploit it. 

“You know what?” You broke the uncomfortable silence. “I have an idea. Why don’t you let me ask you a question?” 


	10. Chapter 10

Ivar lifted his gaze and locked it with yours, the prospect of you wanting to ask him anything probably cheering him up a little. 

He nodded: “Okay.” 

You picked a treat and he said to you: “That’s not how it works. The person being asked gets to pick.” 

“I’ve been locked down here for weeks humoring you, and you can’t let me pick a stupid sweet? Control-freak, much? Indulge me, please.” 

Ivar’s eyes twinkled.

“Hello there?” You snapped your fingers in front of him. 

He blinked: “Oh, I can indulge you… Alright, go ahead.” 

“Why are you always calling me pet names?” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, sweet names. Princess, sweetheart, darling… Do you call all your girls that…? Or is it just the ones you kidnap?” You added a sarcastic touch to not seem that invested.

“No. Just you. Believe it or not, you’re the only girl in my life.” 

“That’s a little pathetic.” You laughed. 

He extended his hand to take the sweet but you refused to let it go. You let your hand fall down to your lap, and he wrapped his fingers around it while you explained yourself. 

“Not yet. It’s a two-part question.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.” 

“Rules don’t count for much down here, do they? Who knows when I’ll get the opportunity to ask you another question?” 

“Shoot, then.”

“You’re an awfully good…  _ host _ . Why?” 

He exhaled with his hand still placed motionless on your lap. 

“I don’t know. I guess I warmed up to you. You’re not exactly trying to claw my eyes out.” 

“God forbid. Those pretty eyes.” You replied under your breath and smirked and Ivar did the same.

“Is this gonna be our thing?”

You opened your palm and Ivar took the chocolate, munching on it happily. 

“Our thing?”

“Yes…”

“And what would that be?”

“Us, flirting.”

“As you said, it’s not like we have much to do down here…”

The next thing you did surprised you as much as it surprised him. First, you closed the box of chocolates and said you didn’t want to play anymore. He was currently busy sucking on his finger, a small amount of chocolate still in the corner of his mouth. 

If your plan worked out well you could kill two birds with one stone. One, grab the gun, and two, taste those beautiful lips. You were suddenly hungry for more than just candy. 

“You have a little…” You said to him. 

“Hm? What?” You pointed to his mouth, and he licked his lips trying to get it out. “Did I get it?” 

You shook your head. 

“Can I?” You asked and he nodded. 

You reached out your finger and wiped the corner of his lips, then took the same finger and licked it. He stopped chewing and stared at you. You stood on your knees and advanced towards him. 

Then you kissed his lips hungrily, the taste of chocolate still on them. He grabbed your face ever so slightly and laid another short kiss on your mouth. He looked at you waiting for a reaction, or for you to recoil or back down but you didn’t. 

Instead, you looked down at his lips, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you again. He put a hand to your waist to hold you gently and you turned your head to practically put your neck on his mouth. 

He answered the unspoken requirement and started laying kisses on it. You had to admit the sensation was like no other. A fire crackled on your skin like gunpowder and you wanted him closer so you sat on his lap and he moaned on contact. 

_ Don’t get sidetracked. Grab the gun. _

You lowered your left hand out of his field of vision and felt the ground for the pistol, but you couldn’t find it. He must have taken it without you noticing. On the other hand, you might be on your way to finding his other pistol. His arousal was more than evident.

_ Alright, that’s it, stop this, Y/N.  _

You backed away from him and looked at the floor, unsettled by your previous move. 

“I, uh, I want to shower. And then sleep for a while. I’m tired. And it’s been a long day.” 

“That’s a great idea.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Cold shower.” His voice still sounded very hoarse.

You went into the bathroom and he sat on the toilet seat, waiting patiently. You bathed and took the towel from him as usual. It was a bit of a routine by now. He didn’t expect much out of it so he definitely didn’t anticipate your actions.

Instead of dressing, you came out of the bathtub with only the towel wrapped around you. You looked him in the eye in a surge of courage before attacking his lips again, this time viciously and without any shade of embarrassment. Ivar didn’t flinch and took the opportunity to explore your mouth further. 

However, when he pinned you against the wall, you took his gun out of his pants and pointed it at him, having spotted it before getting inside of the bathtub. 

Ivar raised his hands in the air. “Woah, woah! Easy there! You don’t know how to handle a gun.” 

“I don’t need to. I just need to point it at you long enough for you to let me go.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t know how to use it.” Ivar said trying to reason with you. 

“All the more reason to help me, don’t you think? I could easily shoot you with my slippery fingers.” 

“Give me the gun, Y/N.” 

“No!”

“Give me the gun now and I promise I won’t hurt you.” 

“The hell I will. Start walking, Ivar!” You said menacingly. 

“Hand it over and I’ll let you get dressed. I won’t even mention it to my father.” 

“I don’t give a damn about your father! I’ve had it up to here with you people!” You flailed the pistol around. 

You looked at each other calculatingly. He moved fast and trapped you in his arms. As you struggled, he tried to snatch the firearm out of your hands. You wanted to get out of his grip but he was too strong. 

“Let me go, you bastard.” 

“Y/N, let go of the gun! You could hurt yourself! I mean it.” 

Your towel was falling down but you didn’t care. All you could think about was getting the upper hand until the gun went off with a bang.


	11. Chapter 11

You gasped briskly and dropped the gun, too terrified to look at him. You felt his grip on you loosen. Had you hit him? Had you killed him? 

Ivar touched his arm and said under his breath: “It’s just a scratch.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

You took several steps back, worried that he might throw himself at you. 

He kicked the gun on the floor and it spun around. He walked slowly up to you and you kept on walking back until there was nothing left but the solid concrete wall.

“You’re breaking my heart, Y/N.” 

He smiled tiredly and trailed his thumb on the underside of your chin. You couldn’t tell if he was pissed off, amused, hurt, or what. Maybe a mixture of all. 

You kept pushing against the wall as if expecting the cement to open up to make way for you. Obviously, it didn’t happen, so you stood on your tiptoes when Ivar closed in on you and trapped you against his body. 

He deliberately touched your neck with his fingers then he smelled your hair, inhaling the soapy perfume. Tears were forming in your eyes and you were fearing what he might do next. Maybe he would punch you and break your jaw. 

But Ivar chose to kiss you passionately, his left hand grabbing your face forcefully and his right hand raising up your leg to make room for him. He didn’t want a single inch of space between you. Your mouth responded and you caressed his hair, the soft strands a welcomed texture on your fingers. A few seconds later he put your other leg up and the only thing standing between you and a hurtful fall were his legs under your thighs. 

Ivar touched your waist through the towel roughly, almost as if he were mad at the piece of cloth for standing in between his desiring hands and the skin he so wanted to see. So he tugged at it and it fell down. You stopped kissing him and looked at him, eyes wild with need. He held you firmly and carried you back to the room. 

He threw you on the bed and took off his shirt, then he unbuckled his pants and tugged them down to lay completely naked on top of you. You were still gasping for air when Ivar started kissing you again, giving your swollen lips no quarter. The wound on his arm was still open, and a trickling drop fell down his side and into your body.

You didn’t mind, not for a second. Maybe if you were making out back in your house, before all of this happened, you would have been disgusted. It’s funny how the circumstances had changed you. Now you were yearning for his touch - for his gripping harsh touch - to calm down your sweltering insides. 

You were reduced to a pool of hormones and drops of water and sweat and blood. You had to admit you didn’t recognize yourself. Making the first move to kiss a guy, stealing his gun then shooting him. And now you were about to have sex.

_ Uh, oh.  _

“What?” He raised his head from in between your chest. 

“What?” 

“You said ‘uh, oh’.” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

_ Is he reading my mind?  _

“Sure you did, I heard you loud and clear… Do you want me to stop?” Ivar said against his most pressing desires, dreading your delayed answer. His entire body felt like it was on fire, but he would make an effort if you weren't ready. You shook your head, unable to utter a syllable anymore. 

“Good. ‘Cuz I’m not sure I can stop now… But I-”

“Hm?”

“I- I want you on top.” His tone carried more embarrassment than lust.

Instead of stopping for long enough to understand how bad an idea that was, considering how little experience you had, you fulfilled his wish; perhaps in your desperation to finally be in control of something. Digging your knees deep in the mattress, you straddled Ivar and leaned forward to keep exploring his lush round lips. Your hair fell like a wavy curtain between you and pooled on top of his face and neck but he didn’t mind. 

When Ivar’s moans turned to low grunts and you were sure neither of you could take the heat anymore, you used your hand to guide him. The pain was brief and effortlessly replaced with an electrifying sensation that traveled from the crown of your head to your curled toes and back again. With more confidence than you surely felt, you swayed on top of him, setting the pace by pure instinct. 

Ivar’s muscles rippled and clenched underneath you; his thighs felt like a bedrock underneath your quaking legs. The motion of your bodies moving in unison made the old bed creak embarrassingly. But you couldn’t care about anything else than Ivar’s hands gripping your hips in place, keeping your bodies connected. The pure look of submission in his face hit you hard. It was as if he’d surrendered his every will. 

There was no trace of the domineering, at times aggressive Ivar, who liked to keep you on a short leash. His icy blue eyes were wide open staring up at you as if at that moment you could slice a knife against his throat and he would let you go through with it if it meant he would die under the weight of your naked body.

And when your release came, trailing after his own, you would’ve liked to say that the look in your eyes was that of a smug and self-satisfied woman finally getting the upper hand over someone who’d brought her so much pain and misery. But the reality was much different. The truth is that at that moment, neither of you was fully your own anymore. Your exposed expression imitated the evident helplessness painted on Ivar’s face. 

There was no fooling anyone anymore. He was already under your skin, just as much as you were under his.

Day 21 – Early morning

“What am I supposed to do now?” You asked him. 

Ivar’s hands were tracing your shoulders absently but you snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Nothin’. You could help me stitch this, though.” 

“I am  _ so _ sorry.” 

“Can’t blame ya.” He said and pinched your nose then he kissed your cheek. “Although, I could have killed you. I wanted to. I still kinda do.” 

“Well, let’s be glad you didn’t.” 

Ivar sat on the bed, breaking your embrace. He opened the drawer of the nightstand and took out a small first-aid kit. He grabbed a needle and a strip of sewing string. 

“Could you help me out, princess?” 

You took the sewing needle and you started closing his small wound very carefully after pouring some alcohol on it. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be out of here by now? I mean… Won’t they get suspicious or anything?” 

“There’s no one outside. There hasn’t been for days, not after Bjørn was moved.” 

“But you always leave.” 

“I figured you need to sleep. And I’ve got a life, you know.” He said jokingly. 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“You’re right. I don’t. But maybe I do now.” Ivar smiled a little, his hopeful eyes shining in the light. 

He kissed your forehead, then he tucked away a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You looked down at the bed; blood was staining the sheets everywhere, most of it his, but some of it yours as well. You felt confused but you were tired of worrying. You told yourself you still had a couple more hours until things went back to ‘normal’. Come morning light he would still be your jailer, and you would still be his jailbird. 

_ Everything will be just like it was before. Right? _


	12. Chapter 12

Day 21 - Late morning

“Brother? Where the fuck are you?” 

“Ivar!?”

Two faint voices yelled from a distance. 

The door of the room opened with a clang and two figures stepped in. You and Ivar were lying in bed, your head on his chest and his brawny arm around you.

You jumped up from the noise and clutched the sheets up to your chest. Ivar sat up and fumbled for his shirt and pants strewn across the floor somewhere but it was too late. He found them and slipped them on anyway, then he stood awkwardly a few steps to the right of the bed.

The two men - Ivar’s brothers, you figured - walked down the stairs and stopped short of your bed staring at you both with a wild look of confusion in their eyes. You looked up at them equally confused and started to shake from your nerves. 

You didn’t know what they wanted, whether they were just as aggressive as their other brother, Bjørn, or how they were gonna react to the scene unfolding in front of their eyes for that matter. They exchanged a glance and then looked at Ivar in perfect synchronicity. A dangerous silence took over the room.

“Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like, Ivar.” 

One of them, the one with big blue eyes and dark hair, grabbed the bridge of his nose with one hand while his other hand clutched the foot of the bed with white knuckles.

“And what does it look like, Ubbe?” Ivar retorted.

“What were you doing in bed with her? Surely you remember that dad said not to touch her?” Ubbe lowered his voice as if that would make their conversation private and you disappear from their presence.

The third brother, a blond with green eyes merely stood there locking eyes with you. His stare was more than just curious, it was incisive. You blinked a few times, overwhelmed by his direct eye contact and he looked from your bruised face to your mangled arms, down the front of the thin sheet that covered your nakedness to the extensive splotches of red staining the entire bed. But he didn’t speak. 

Ivar carried on: “Actually, father said not to  _ harm _ her.” 

“And what do you call this, huh?” Ubbe pointed at you. “She’s shaking and cowering in a bed full of blood.”

“No, no, no. Hang on. Are you saying I raped her?”

“Explain this, then!”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you! You just got here and started throwing accusations at me!” Ivar growled in anger.

“Ivar, what the fuck did you do? This isn’t you!” Ubbe stepped closer to Ivar and looked between you and his other brother. “Hvitserk, take her away. Help her dress.”

Hvitserk circled the bed to reach your side, and when you recoiled violently with your back hitting the headboard, he crouched in front of you. 

“Hey. It’s okay. I’ll just help you get clean.” 

You shook your head in fear and Hvitserk extended his open palm to you. You looked at his long white fingers and remembered how Ivar had said that his brother tortured your dad’s employees branding their chest with a knife. 

“You’re gonna hurt me.” Your breathing was shallow and desperate. 

He shook his head. “Come with me.” His tone was almost warm. “I mean you no harm.”

A hot tear rolled down your cheek. You were so tired of being tossed around, deprived of your privacy and your dignity, living in constant fear, and having no choice in the matter.

“Don’t fucking touch her!”

“ _ You _ need to calm down, brother. We’re going outside to talk this out.” Ubbe grabbed his arm and shot back through gritted teeth. “Hvitserk!” Ubbe raised his voice at the man crouching in front of you. “Take her away, I said!”

“Sorry.” Hvitserk muttered to you before leaning forward to grab you and your blanket and he lifted you in his arms effortlessly. He was way stronger than he looked.

You wanted to scream for him to take his hands off your body but you knew it was useless. You wouldn’t win that struggle against three men of their height and shady profession. Hvitserk carried you to the bathroom and set you down before closing the door behind him. The sheet got entangled with his feet and was yanked down revealing your naked torso to the stranger. 

“Fuck.” He faced the door almost instantly.

Your shaky fingers scrambled to wrap the blanket around yourself protectively.

“Hey, it’s fine. I told you I’m not gonna hurt you.” Hvitserk glanced to the floor while speaking over his shoulder. “I just wanna make sure that my brother didn’t fuck you up.”

You stayed as quiet and as still as you could, still distrustful of his intentions. 

“Do you want to shower before I bandage you up?”

You shook your head vigorously but seeing as he couldn’t see your gesture, you vocalized it as well. You did need a shower, but you weren’t about to jump in the tub while locked in with him. 

“Okay. Get dressed then.” With his hands in the air, so you could see them, he leaned forward to grab a clean set of clothes that was set on the lowered toilet seat, then he faced away. 

You dressed swiftly and eventually, he asked: “Can I turn around now?” He waited for your response but it wasn’t coming. “Y/N?”

“Y-yes.” You conceded at last.

You grabbed your elbows in front of your body, still feeling naked even though you had clothes on. Hvitserk looked you in the eye for a significant moment until you lowered your gaze, feeling uncomfortable again. Why was he looking at you like that? 

“Why don’t you, uh, why don’t you sit down here and I’ll take a look at your bruises?”

Begrudgingly, you did as Hvitserk told you to do and he crouched in front of you again. He passed a wet rag down your face and limbs cleaning the curdled blood off you in an unexpectedly gentle way. 

“These bruises look old.” He commented when he saw them more clearly. “Maybe a day or two?”

“Bjørn did them.”

“What do you mean Bjørn?” Hvitserk stared at you again and you squirmed uncomfortably. 

“Didn’t your father tell you why he sent for you two?”

He shook his head.

“Well… Bjørn tried to…”

Hvitserk made a face which said that apparently, he had a heart - but you weren’t so easily convinced.

He stood up and washed his hands in the basin before turning the faucet off. “Hey, for what it's worth, I’m sorry my brothers treated you like this.”

“Like you would’ve done better.”

Hvitserk angled his head but held back his tongue. It was best not to upset you any further.

You decided you had to set the record straight before things got even more out of control. 

“Ivar didn’t touch me.”

“What was that?”

“I said Ivar didn’t touch me. At least not without my consent.”

“Hang on, you and Ivar actually had sex…?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice was small.

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow. “Well, this changes things… Where did all that blood come from then?”

“Ivar was hurt.”

“How?” He slanted his eyes.

“With a gun.”

“With a gun?”

“Yes… It was Bjørn.” You lied and he examined your expression but seemed to believe you.

“So none of it was yours?”

“N-no… Well, maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When you looked to the side avoiding his eyes and his prodding question he restated it and raised his voice slightly, enough to make you answer him. You had no intention of finding out what he could do with a knife and whether Ivar had been right to praise his skills as a butcher. 

“It… was my first time.”

Hvitserk scoffed before a smirk twitched his mouth. “Ain’t you two quite the pair…”

You frowned and he kept smiling. “Oh, he didn’t you tell you?”

“Tell me what exactly?”

“He’d never been with a woman.”

While you took in his words he added: “Well, I know being chained in here must be hell but look on the bright side, Y/N. At least it finally got you two laid.” Hvitserk declared bluntly and his grin was as infuriating as it was embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rly like this chapter and the next two... is it because hvitserk finally showed up and will be fucking shit up ? oooohhh you betcha


	13. Chapter 13

Day 28

It had been at least a week by your count since you’d last seen Ivar. That day, after Hvitserk bandaged you up, he and Ubbe spoke in hushed tones for endless minutes standing several feet away from you. By that point, Ivar was nowhere in sight anymore and you were worried for him. 

But at the same time, you didn't want to seem so invested which was extremely hard considering that time went by agonizingly slow without Ivar by your side. You didn't feel like making known to them that you cared for him, so you’d refused to ask them about his sibling. In fact, you refrained from talking to them at all. The less they knew the better. You could barely admit your feelings for Ivar to yourself; your pride was very much in the way…

And now, your heart hammered painfully inside your chest day and night. And panic attacks were a newfound recurring nightmare that made your captors extremely uncomfortable as they watched you from a distance with a perplexed look on their faces. Every small movement or sound could trigger you off. 

You spent all your energy thinking that at any minute they might force themselves on you, or kill you. Or both. And so your hope of being set free dwindled with each passing hour. You even refused to eat or shower because the constant presence of your new jailers perturbed you. Most of the time they rotated in 12-hour shifts - when they couldn’t stay both at the same time - to make sure you were always with somebody. 

The new routine afforded you even less privacy than before and it didn’t help that they weren’t exactly warm or friendly towards you either. It weighed you down knowing that there were eyes - blue eyes, green eyes - perpetually watching you. So feeling clean or having food in your stomach didn’t bring any joy like it used to anymore. 

What was the point of that anyway? You’d be another depressing statistic pretty soon, so you only wanted to wither away as quickly as possible. Until Ubbe, growing sick and tired of your despondent attitude, growled in frustration while he ensnared your wrists with his fingers and he dragged you to the bathroom. 

He locked you inside with him and sat on the floor announcing he wouldn’t let you out until you showered, so you stepped behind the curtain fearfully, opened the faucet, and cried the entire time. Afterward, he tied you to a chair and practically force-fed you through your tears as Hvitserk watched impassively with blackened eyes. Ubbe didn’t look like he’d enjoyed it, but you still hated him for it.

The absence of Ivar was affecting you deeply; you’d grown used to his company and it wasn’t until he was gone that you understood how much easier he’d made your stay in that hellhole and how much you trusted him, as opposed to his brothers. They weren’t beating you nor torturing you. But their behavior was cold and detached and obscure, to say the least… 

And a nasty hunch that eventually, they were going to give in and act on their darkest impulses - with the impunity that your captivity gave them - tugged on your heartstrings at every waking hour. Even the purest succumbed in the end. And the sons of this so-called Ragnar were the farthest thing from pure you’d ever encountered in your wretched life.

Day 29 - Afternoon

Hvitserk blindfolded you before taking you on a considerably long car ride that felt like a sure pathway to your own death. Excessive tears gushed down your cheeks until the car stopped and Hvitserk moved you around a bit unkindly. His hand undid the strong knot of your binds and he simply told you to walk.

Ever since he’d found out that Ivar hadn’t hurt you, any trace of sympathy he might have felt towards you was gone. Or perhaps he was just trying not to replicate Ivar’s mistake of being too friendly to you - in case he was ever given the order to kill you. 

“Grab my hand, I said.” He was repeating the same instruction to you for the second time in mere seconds.

Your fingers were reluctantly grazing his own, but his command made you finally intertwine them with his.

“That’s it. Keep walking by my side. Slow and steady. And don't even think about trying something.” Hvitserk warned through clenched teeth. 

“I like you, but I won't hesitate to stab you.” He turned his head to give you an incongruent smile and a light kiss on your forehead. To any other person looking, they might just see a young couple in love walking hand in hand. 

“What are we doing here?”

“You'll find out soon enough.”

“I wanna know now.” You were in no position to make demands, yet you tempted fate.

“Aren't you an eager little thing? Hvitserk smirked, not taking you seriously in the slightest.

People were walking around you laughing and talking leisurely, fully unaware of the ordeal you were going through. Hvitserk had taken you to a public park near the center of town. It was the first time in weeks, perhaps even a month, that you were seeing the sun and breathing fresh air. But you only felt scorned to be paraded around town as if you were free. 

You didn't know what the brothers had in mind when they decided that Hvitserk should bring you here but it was a cruel joke that made your eyes burn with salty tears. It was so infuriating to be so close to freedom and know that you wouldn't be able to make it 10 feet before Hvitserk grabbed you. 

But on the other hand, who said you couldn't try? If you died, at least it would be standing up for yourself. It was better than this shitty life you were living in a damp bunker as these people’s plaything. You eyed the path to your left that led to a subway station out of the corner of your eye. 

If you ran fast enough maybe you could reach the stairs leading down and try to make it to the inside. Once there, the number of people around would probably put a safe distance between you and Hvitserk, and you could try to find a security guard, a policeman, or just about anyone who could help you. 

Feeling courageous, you let go of his hand and sprinted towards the flat gravel path. You experienced freedom for a string of fleeting seconds that felt shorter than what you surely deserved. You had no idea which god you had crossed to earn such tough luck but you cursed him with all your strength. 

Just as you feared, Hvitserk’s hands were around your neck in no time. You were disappointed in your failed escape attempt. No, more than that. You were embarrassed. How pathetic it had been. You shouldn’t have starved yourself because as weak as your body was, you truly had no chance of escaping these men. You'd be their prisoner forever unless your father decided to finally care about you and negotiate.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, please.” You started pleading under your voice, scared out of your mind and throwing your dignity in the air as soon as Hvitserk’s slender fingers curled around your throat. 

A man on the nearest ice cream stand holding his infant daughter turned around to glance your way and Hvitserk’s other hand came to trap your waist passionately as if he were your lover.

“Where do you think you’re going, my love?” He spoke loud enough for people around you to hear. You sensed his smirk by his tone even before you felt his breath tickling you as he chuckled. “You must be so desperate for sweet things, as usual.”

The man looked away but you knew he was still listening because of his odd body posture.

“Aren't you?” Hvitserk’s tone was lighthearted but you knew what hid beneath it. You better agree loud and clear.

“Yes!”

“I’ll buy you a treat. But you have to be a good girl…” He raised his voice and buried his nose in your nape, fluffing your hair with his hot breath. 

“Walk.” He murmured then and urged you forward with his hand on your ribcage. 

You two stood behind the man and his toddler. The line to the front was short but in this uncomfortable position inside Hvitserk’s confining grip, it felt eternal. You wanted so badly to scream and let everyone know what was happening but Hvitserk was inside your head even. He must've known what you were thinking because out of nowhere he ground his crotch against your ass while seizing your hips tightly and your eyes widened when you felt an evident hardness in his jeans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this got depressing 😅


	14. Chapter 14

“You feel that?”

You gulped and nodded faintly.

What you initially thought might’ve been his arousal felt more like an actual weapon.

“Do… you? I can't hear you, doll.” His voice dripped sticky and sweet. 

You despised the direction your thoughts took momentarily but if you weren’t so petrified and this was a vastly different situation, you’d be a melted puddle at his feet at the sound of his enticing voice warming the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yes.” You said out of breath.

“That’s how you make me feel when you get all feisty on me.”

The man in front of you shifted uncomfortably and you realized he must've been thinking how you two were dirty talking when nothing could’ve been farther away from the truth. 

“I got a knife in here with your name written all over…” Hvitserk alternated his voice to a whisper once more while he took your fingers in his hand and guided them inside his jeans to make you feel his bulky pocket knife; its cold sleekness made your breathing hitch even more. 

Maybe it was how absolutely terrified you felt but that god-awful queue wasn't moving any faster. The guy in front of you cleared his throat and looked your way casually and you forced a smile when you felt Hvitserk’s curious fingers roaming your body, raising every damn hair on your skin. 

Then his mouth grazed along your shoulders and made you crane your head to give him unrestricted access to your delicate skin. By the look on the man’s face, you could tell Hvitserk was staring him in the eye defiantly. Hvitserk sank his teeth into your neck and actually managed to pierce the skin and certainly bruise it too. The soft breeze coming from the trees promptly cooled the trail of his saliva and you shivered.

“Can’t wait till we’re alone, babe. I’ll cover your lovely skin with more of these marks. Would you like that?” 

He caressed the back of your neck with one light feathery finger that brought shudders about as he spoke of the now faintly-colored skin that Bjørn had mauled. He did this to throw the man off his scent but it still felt like a vague threat. There was nothing stopping Hvitserk from abusing you like that in private - either with his mouth or with his hands, depending on his fancy - and you both knew it.

“Mhmm.” You felt forced to answer. 

Your chest was heaving up and down. You closed your eyes, more out of fear than anything else, and hummed trying to control your shaken nerves. It could've easily fooled anyone. That's why you couldn’t blame the man when he was finally convinced that you two were a couple. 

He grabbed his daughter’s ice cream before heading off and you were equal parts relieved and disappointed. Relieved because you didn't want to die of blood loss at Hvitserk’s hands, and disappointed because you were holding onto a glimmer of hope that the man might do something to help you.

While you placed your order with a hoarse voice, Hvitserk stood to your right but kept an arm firmly planted inside your back pocket feeling your ass cheek in the process. He paid for your treat and walked you to the nearest bench.

“Put your leg on top of mine.”

“What?”

“Just do as you’re told.”

You figured he wanted to put as little distance between your bodies as possible, in case you tried anything again. He looked straight ahead for some seconds before glancing in the direction opposite you, scouring the big crowded park. It was a great open spot he’d chosen, with plenty of space to survey the people around you. If anybody approached you, he would have a clear view of them before they even got a good 20 feet close.

Reluctantly, you moved your thigh to rest on top of his but his fingers clutched your leg, spreading it open to move you even closer still. His right hand was strewn across your thigh grabbing your knee. Apparently, nothing was ever near enough for Hvitserk. He threw his left arm around your shoulders and finally relaxed.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked you and you stared at him slightly disoriented.

“What do y-you mean?”

“Eat.”

You remembered the cold dessert the moment a thick sticky drop fell down the cone’s soaked napkin and into the back of your hand. You blinked perplexedly. Your stomach was churning, but you decided there was no point in wasting a perfectly good ice cream. The way things were shaping out, it might be the last one you ever had. You started licking the treat meekly.

“Should I just throw it into the pond? Or maybe give it to that beggar over there?” Hvitserk laughed. “Eat.” He ordered once more. 

The setting sun hit his face directly and he was so close to you that you realized his eyes had more than one color in them. Small golden flecks also danced around his green irises. Despite the light earth-like tones in them, his gaze was heavy-lidded and darkened. 

“You already coaxed it out of me. Might as well.” His lips curved into a smug smile. 

“What are we doing here, Hvitserk?” You asked in a small voice.

“Aren’t you happy, Y/N? I'm taking you out for a walk.” He smiled lightly and stared ahead.

“Are you gonna kill me?

“In here? In public? Nah.”

“That didn't seem to be a problem back there.”

“Well, not if I don't have to. So don't make me.” He shrugged and posed his eyes on you again. 

Hvitserk reached over to wrap his fingers around the cone. He gave it a long lick, almost as long as the one he gave his own lips. He swayed the ice cream in front of your mouth until the cold tip caressed you.

“Eat, I said.” 

You took a bite out of the hard chocolate shell on top and he exhaled with a smile. 

“Attagirl.”

The way Hvitserk stared at you was unlike anything you’d experienced before, not even with Ivar. His gaze burned. It made you feel naked and in peril. No one wore the wicked turmoil inside themselves as close to the surface as Hvitserk did. 

At that moment, you finally understood why he stared at you like that. He looked like he could either slice you open or eat you up on that same bench and in front of everyone and he wouldn’t care. In fact, you were sure he’d even enjoy the audience. Either way, you wanted his eyes off you.

Hvitserk returned the dessert to your hands when his phone rang. He took it out and answered laconically. “Next to the ice cream stand. Walk up to us.”

He turned to you. “Right. Snack time is over.” He seized the cone rudely and threw it on the grass. "Your brother is here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is that a knife in your pocket, hvitserk, or are you just ʳᵉᵉᵉᵃˡˡʸ happy to see me? lmao
> 
> also i just realized i gotta add another chapter to wrap things up because I'm dumb and split the ones i had the wrong way


	15. Chapter 15

“Now kiss me.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. And you better do it like you mean it.”

“But why?!” 

“If you don’t, I’ll stab your brother on sight.” Hvitserk’s timbre was melodious and carefree.

You were standing in front of the bench as your brother approached you with a stiff walk and a troubled expression.

“You know I’ll do it…” 

Panic bubbled up in your chest as your brother got closer and closer.

“Tick tock.”

You decided not to risk it so you stood on your tiptoes to lean into Hvitserk’s mouth and you kissed him, feeling conflicted and dirty, among many other things. Not least of all because barely a week ago you’d been sleeping with his brother. It was twisted to feel like you owed your faithfulness to a man that had kidnapped you. But against all logic, you missed Ivar deeply and were itching to see him again. 

Hvitserk grabbed your neck mercilessly and slid his tongue into your mouth almost on contact, jarring your senses. There was nothing gentle or nice about the way Hvitserk kissed, which wasn’t at all surprising. A deep-set humiliation burst from within you, coloring your cheekbones and making your heart tighten inside your chest because, in all honesty, the way your body was reacting was so shameful. 

You had a shrivel of common sense still left. Your head knew better. And your pride knew better too. So why were your legs wavering? Why was your throat pressing out sounds that sounded dangerously close to moans? You didn’t want to enjoy his touch, his mouth, or any of the charged looks he gave you. There was no question that Hvitserk was nothing but a disgusting creep who was using the situation to take advantage of you. 

And yet, you were upsettingly aware of how badly he aroused you. Perhaps giving in to Ivar had ruined you and if the man approaching you didn’t threaten you with damage and a lifetime of trauma, you didn’t want him anymore. If you even got out of this one alive, one thing was for sure, you were in for several years of therapy to undo what they’d done to you.

Your brother staggered back as he reached you and looked as if he were debating whether to intervene and help you, or to ask you what the hell you were doing.

Hvitserk let go of your mouth, not before catching your lower lip with his teeth and nicking it. 

You raised a fingertip to your mouth and caught the single drop of blood.

“So… are you guys finally ready to negotiate?” 

Hvitserk asked your brother but kept his eyes fixed on you for a few more seconds and somehow you held his gaze. You had a hunch he’d noticed the way you’d responded and that was why his pupils were perfectly dilated while he smirked so full of himself. 

“I have to admit this abduction routine is getting old. Not that I mind having your sister close for one second…”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Your brother gestured to Hvitserk’s jailing arm looped around yours. 

“Oh, nothing. Just showing you how much fun she’s having with us.”

“Are- are you okay, Y/N? We’ve missed you!” Your brother took in your battered expression and tired body. 

Your eyes had been silently spilling ambiguous tears for some moments now. “Y-yes. I’m okay. I think.” You said unsure and blinked repeatedly. 

“Your father. Is he gonna honor the promise he made us?”

“What promise?!” You demanded.

“Well, see, baby, if he shows up today and reaches an agreement with my father, we get to keep you just for a few more days. For safekeeping, you know.” Hvitserk chuckled and you shook your head strongly. 

“No! No!” 

The thought of returning to that putrid basement for who knows how many more days scared you senseless. How could your family agree to something like that in the first place? It was beyond cruel.

“Relax, gorgeous. Once we’re sure your dad has kept his new end of the bargain, we’ll let you go.” Hvitserk didn’t sound like he was lying and you wanted to believe him so badly.

“He’s willing.” Your brother announced.

“Then you have our word.”

“Is that it?! And you couldn’t have done this over the phone?” You turned to Hvitserk with an accusatory glance. You wanted to shove him and spit in his pretty face for making you jump through all these hoops for his entertainment.

“I wish. But your dad asked us to confirm you were alive first, so…”

“How do I know you’re not going to hurt her?” Your brother demanded. “And how do I even know you’re really going to let her go after we comply?”

Hvitserk leaned over and expertly kissed your mouth again and you just stood there, taking in his advances, too exhausted to do anything anymore. Your brother tensed up and tried to stop him but Hvitserk put his knife against his throat with the hand that wasn’t all of a sudden holding you harshly. 

“Well, you can ask her how much she enjoys having me near for one…”

For manhandling two different people at the same time out of the blue, you’d think he would’ve looked caught off guard but Hvitserk was just as confident as he was a mere instant before.

“Or you could trust me. No need to worry, I’ll take good care of her… But if you try to attack me again, well, then  _ she’s _ not gonna have a great time after you leave.” Hvitserk tutted his tongue. 

“Same thing goes for you, my darling.” Hvitserk eyed you briefly. “You do anything funny right now and I’ll have his sorry guts all over my shoes.” He smiled at the startled face your brother was making. 

“Now… Turn around and walk away  _ very _ slowly.” Hvitserk bossed your brother around. “You’ll see her again soon.”


	16. Chapter 16

18 months later

Walking through town alone was an oppressing task. You never went anywhere without your bodyguards anymore, ever since that frigid night under the pouring rain where Ubbe and Hvitserk left you under an old solitary bridge before driving off unceremoniously. They’d held you for 11 more days. 11 more miserable days under that bright fucking tube light you hated so much. 11 more days of enduring their watchful eyes, their rude orders, their rough invasive hands. Somehow, those 11 days had felt longer - and they had branded you in a more meaningful way - than all the days before them. 

But enough was enough. You were not going to spend every second of your new life in fear. So you ordered your security team to stay behind in the car and let you walk around the park alone for a bit. It wasn’t complete independence, but it was something… Baby steps. After all, healing was an uneven path, much more twisted than linear, if your experience was any indication.

This park had marked your life in a considerable way. So you felt like you had to visit it sooner rather than later and see if stepping foot in it would lead to some kind of insight or something of the sort your therapist was always rambling on about. Since you never did find the location of that bunker, this was the closest thing you had to remind you of him, and of all the things they had done to you.

The day was beautiful and the people were strolling about just as carefree as they’d been that afternoon when Hvitserk dragged you through the park, groping and kissing you vulgarly. The sight of the same ice cream vendor, still selling the same treats in the same spot made you inhale sharply. The skin in your neck prickled with the breeze and you closed your fists by instinct. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally walking around alone. Thought I’d never see the day.”

You tensed up when you recognized his voice and you swallowed hard. You’d thought about this moment for every single day since you last saw him, but you still felt as distressed and as unprepared for it as ever.

“I figured what’s the worst that could happen to me anymore? I’ve experienced everything already…”

You turned around just in time to see Ivar grimacing.

“How are you, Y/N?”

“Good.”

He nodded.

“And you?”

“Been better.” He shrugged. His eyes darted to the little lovely creature straddling your chest.

“Have you been following us?” Your heart pumped faster, so fast it almost hurt.

“I had to see you. Both. I had to see you both. It’s a lovely family you got there.” His words flew out in an odd rhythm.

“So you _have_ been following us.” You confirmed.

Your phone went off and you eyed your bodyguard’s message on your lock screen. _Who’s the guy? Do we approach?_

You twisted your fingers surreptitiously in a hand signal you’d been taught by your security team. All these tricks and codes were a necessary part of your routine now since you were never not anxious anymore. 

“For weeks… But I never dared to approach.” Ivar admitted in a genuine voice and lowered his eyes. There was no aggressiveness in his stance, no defiance in his gaze, no manipulation in his voice. He looked just like any other man. “I wasn’t so convinced it was the right thing to do… I’m sure your life is way better without me in it.”

“Not as good as it was before I met you.” You squeezed your baby’s chubby legs gently for the comfort and the distraction that having a warm body pressed against you could give you.

“I know.” Ivar twisted his face.

“And yet…”

“Yes?”

“And yet I’ve missed you, Ivar.” No matter the place in your life you were at right now, you still yearned for him with a slow-burning feeling that simmered beneath the surface constantly.

His blue eyes shined upon hearing your words. “I’ve missed you too. I can barely live with myself, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you!”

“You know, I often wondered where you went that day after Ubbe dragged you out. And why you never came back. I cried for days… I kept waiting for you to show up again and hold me in your arms like you did that night.” Your vulnerable voice almost broke.

“I wanted to. Believe me. But my father wouldn’t let me. I got in trouble. _Big_ trouble. My brothers told dad what happened between us and he was furious. I couldn’t- I couldn’t go back. He would’ve disowned me.” Ivar explained slowly.

“I see…”

“I’d love nothing more than for us to start over.” Ivar touched his chest sincerely. “Truly. You have to believe me.”

“I believe you…” You replied with a small but still apprehensive smile. 

He exhaled in relief and nodded. “Then we have to talk. But not here.” Ivar threw a passing glance to the space behind you as if he were waiting for someone to approach you.

You assented and for a brief moment, the sound of the birds chirping was the only noise floating in the air. It really was a warm and beautiful day.

“But Y/N…” Ivar nodded to your sweet baby girl as she fussed around in your arms. “I _have_ to see her.”

You smiled at your baby comfortingly. “Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay…”

“I promise I only want to hold her.” He shifted his body weight to one side and bit his lip. “Please?”

You approached Ivar slowly and he stayed still, his posture stiff and awkward. He grinned when he saw her playfully turning her face a little. No matter the circumstances of her springing into existence, her adorable dimples made you melt each time.

“Hey, you beauty!” He cooed her softly and your heart swelled inside your chest momentarily.

And when you took your daughter’s hat off her blonde wispy hair to watch his inevitable reaction, Ivar’s smile fell in an instant.

He pointed out what you’d been dreading he’d notice: “She has green eyes.”

Your phone buzzed once more and the words read: “Behind you.”

Mere seconds later you felt another presence by your side and long fingers darted to the small of your back and made you quiver. 

“Hello, brother.”

“Hvitserk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKOKOK LISTEN I couldn't decide what to do with Hvitserk’s character because I want my cake and I want to eat it too 😂 And he’s perf for this type of situation so fuck it! Like, I knew I wanted him to be a bit sleazy, upfront AND super attracted to Reader but I couldn’t decide whether he was a torn good(ish) boy, caught in the wrong business like Ivar, with mixed feelings because he didn’t want to be that enticed by her -- or just a total manipulative psychopath, who only wanted to have her because his brother had had her as well. So my answer was just to leave him open to interpretation. He’s certainly a bit of both…
> 
> Same thing goes for the circumstances around her daughter’s conception. The only sure thing (well, as sure as one can be because genes are a funny thing) is that she’s Hvitserk’s daughter, but I couldn't decide whether it was because he raped her, coerced her (which is basically the same thing, but less physically violent and more like, convincing her into doing it with the promise that he’d do this or that thing for her???), or if she actually gave in to her weird confused feelings about Hvitty and slept with him. Out of boredom, horniness, self-destructive tendencies, missing Ivar and making a very poor life choice, or whatever reason… 
> 
> And the very last lines are meant to be ambiguous too. Who sent her that text? Was it her bodyguard warning her? Or was it Hvitserk announcing his presence? Is she actually together with Hvitserk now? Willingly? If so, did Ivar know? Cuz in that case, he probably wanted to make sure that the baby wasn't his… Or maybe Ivar had never seen them together before so he didn’t know and Hvitserk just appeared out of nowhere. Or perhaps he was with Ivar stalking her and decided to come out of hiding when he saw how much the baby looked like him. Anyway, don’t @ me because I D K 😂 Well, I do know ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I have my version! BUT I think there’s enough material in there for whatever way you wanna read this lol 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for putting up with my strange writing 😅❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Look me up on Tumblr! deans-ch-ch-cherrypie.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you want to support me: https://ko-fi.com/amyponders


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